Uh, what does anyone know about them? [open]

[taediosum]

Who: Arcade & anybody/everybody
What: learning how to deal with suddenly having a flying truck??
When: post late-September/TDM moon warp
Where: around the convoy (and then i guess anywhere at all, who wants to go for a very bumpy ride)
Warnings: none, it is purely shenanigans in here


i. moon warped
[ There are a lot of things Arcade has come to accept that it's just... pretty normal to wake up to, around here. But he's gotten used to some things staying the same, and even fewer of them being something that he can at least exercise a tiny modicum of control over.

He should've known that trusting in anything being immutable and ordinary was a ridiculous lapse in judgement.

Nothing seems different, when he first wakes up - the sheltered interior of the truck's trailer looks exactly the same as it did the night before. From the inside. It's not until he's dressed and stepping out into the faint, early morning light that he realizes something is drastically amiss. The shadow of the truck he's grown familiar with, over the months, is too tall and there are things jutting out from the predictably blocky silhouette.

One would be forgiven for thinking a monster snuck into the convoy overnight, overhearing the shocked and maybe a little indignant sound Arcade makes, when he sees the damage. Or what looks like damage, at first. When the immediate shock wears off, it's obvious that a vertibird hasn't crashed into his truck in the night, but rather parts of one have been melded with the original body of the truck. Anyone who comes investigating around the source of the disturbance will find Arcade standing, flabbergasted, in front of a truck with a glassed-in cockpit instead of a cab, two enormous helicopter rotors sticking off either side, and an equally unwieldy looking fin off the back. At least the Followers' insignia is still painted on the sides. (But that's almost weirder.) ]

...How am I supposed to drive this?

ii. test flight
[ How am I supposed to drive this is still a question by the evening stop. Of course, there's the same assistance that helped him figure out how to manage, in the beginning, right? And that kept them following the convoy at a normal pace, today. But that's not much help when he's wary to touch any of those ridiculous dials, himself. Especially when his only experience up close with these things has been riding along at a terribly young age. And the rest is anecdotal. Altogether not a great basis to build on.

One side of the cockpit is kicked open (the modified design is at least more convenient for climbing in and out of), Arcade slumped over in one of the pilot seats. He's staring at the intimidating new dashboard (that still somehow includes a car radio) like it's a particularly difficult exam for which he hasn't studied. In a class he never took.

Some assistance might be welcome. Just mind the wings, if they suddenly start to spin. Of course he'd actually start pushing buttons at the exact wrong moment. ]

Comments

test flight

[androidvictoriam]

[ During those long weeks under siege at the police station, Danse had usually tried to keep his complaints about the situation to himself, for the sake of keeping up squad morale. It doesn't do for a commander to despair too openly in front of his subordinates. But one of the few wistful refrains he'd allowed himself had become so common as to eventually prompt Haylen and Rhys to exchange long-suffering glances and mouth it along with him behind his back.

"What I wouldn't give for a single working vertibird."

This is...not exactly the kind of scenario he had in mind, as he pulls into camp alongside this incomprehensible verti-truck beast after a day of managing to be elsewhere and oblivious. So changed is the thing from what he's used to (in any sense of the term) that he doesn't even recognize it as Arcade's vehicle at all until he sees the cross still painted on the door. If it's possible to look more flabbergasted at the sight than Arcade had on first waking up to it, Danse probably does, as he is generally even less equipped to wrap his mind around the new insanities that the moon warps like to inflict on them all.

But rather than dismay or indignation--easy for him to avoid, when it's not his truck being frankensteined--the look on his face as he approaches has a note of wonderment to it. One that is only somewhat and briefly dampened by the sudden whirring of the rotors, because he's steered clear of them reflexively anyway when getting close enough to peer into the cockpit, and his voice pitches itself automatically to speak over them with the necessary volume. ]

Incredible. How could you possibly have--

[ Danse has ordinarily long since learned his lesson about assuming Arcade has any agency in the design of his truck, but forgive him, he's distracted. And slightly giddy. ]

Here, turn those off for a second so we can talk.

[taediosum]

[ Arcade doesn't even parse the words he's hearing over the winding up of the engines, but it's less from the noise and more the immediate spike of overwhelming relief that hits him when he recognizes that arrestingly loud voice. Oh thank god, someone who might actually know what to do, here. He should've thought of him, before, but honestly he's been too shell-shocked by the weirdness of this whole thing to do much more than struggle to process it, thus far.

It's a good thing he has all four arms so he can catch himself before he falls out the side of the cockpit, as quickly as he turns, and one hand can automatically flip the switch he'd toggled right back. ]

Danse— I don't suppose you could lend me a hand, here. [ He sounds mildly desperate. But not enough so to forget to flatly head off any potential wordplay, ] ...Metaphorically. [ (He is spending entirely too much time with Len.) ]

[androidvictoriam]

[ This addition might ordinarily get more of a strange look from Danse, who would sooner shoot himself in the foot than indulge in a pun like that, but there's no time for that when he's distracted by his attempt to evaluate what he can see inside. It doesn't map one-to-one onto any vertibird he's ever traveled in, as he supposes it wouldn't when it's still half a truck, but neither are the controls completely unfamiliar-looking. ]

Well, I'll...be glad to see what I can do. I'm more used to manning the weapons on a bird than watching the pilots, but this setup looks a little more streamlined than a gunship, and I've still seen medics fly those in a pinch.

[ Not well, but...that doesn't need to be said right now. Confidence is key, and they're both going to need it. Danse crosses around to the other side of the cockpit and opens it to let himself in, at least not having to think much about that part. ]

[taediosum]

[ Arcade already assumes this isn't going to go well, so Danse can't do much to hurt his confidence. Even that mild assurance is a relief - he might not be able to help, in any actual capacity, but he's willing to try. Arcade's not going to still be sitting here trying to puzzle this out on his own, for the moment, at least. ]

Great. Thanks.

[ He deflates, somewhat, slouching back into his seat as Danse joins him from the other side. The array of controls in front of them is, thankfully, nowhere near as expansive as a real, full-size vertibird. But it's still a lot more delicate equipment than the truck's dashboard used to include. ]

As long as we manage not to crash into anything, I think I'll consider it a success. [ But he isn't sure the odds are at all in their favor, there, either. ]

[androidvictoriam]

[ Willing and rather eager to try, even if Danse is still a sensible enough guy to find it nerve-racking. There's the concerning knowledge that crashing is a distinct and not-unlikely possibility, and then there's the cool factor of flying a truck. Both things can coexist. ]

Roger that.

[ Faintly wry, but it sounds better than "no promises." He straps himself in with the seatbelt and begins to look over the controls with a closer eye, trying to think back over the countless conversations he's overheard between pilots and copilots but tuned out as background noise when he was a passenger. ]

Not to get ahead of ourselves, but if we can get it airborne and keep it that way, this could be a real godsend. The convoy's own med-evac. How does it handle on the ground now?

[taediosum]

[ If Danse is belting himself in, it's probably a good idea to follow suit. Arcade fumbles with seatbelts meant for someone with only one pair of arms to fit through, while he surveys the controls. ]

Ah... Well. Fine? I guess. Len actually does most of the driving.

[androidvictoriam]

[ Danse watches this and sizes up the shortcomings of the seatbelt with some concern, wondering if modifying it would be within the tailor's range of expertise. Just all the further incentive not to crash for now, as if any more incentive was necessary. He tests the cockpit door to make sure it's sealed shut on his side. ]

How come?

[ Peering in the side mirror, he makes sure nobody else is within range of the rotors. Hard to tell, really, when the convoy boasts more than one invisible mist person now. ]

I mean, I pretty much live in the hot dog truck myself these days, but that doesn't mean Deacon just hands over the keys whenever I want them.

[taediosum]

You live in that?

[ Arcade makes a face (it's definitely judgemental), as he glances over his shoulder. As if he could glimpse that monstrosity from here.

Instead, he just ends up pulling the door shut on his side and slouching back into his seat. He shrugs as he offers his vague explanation. ]

...I don't like driving, and he doesn't mind it.

[androidvictoriam]

I live with the driver. He didn't ask for it to look like that.

[ A predicament Danse might expect Arcade, of all people, to understand. He finishes up whatever elements of a pre-flight checklist he can vaguely remember, glancing over at this.

He usually accepts vague explanations from Arcade without question, at least where personal things are concerned, reasoning that if he were open to volunteering more information he'd have done so in the first place, but he is curious. And it is, Danse supposes, relevant to the whole question here about what can be done with the truck now that it flies. ]

Any particular reason? I mean, it's probably far too optimistic to think you might like flying better, but...